Drive you home
by Hoshi no kodomo
Summary: Songfic to Garbage’s Drive you home. A possible take on Vegeta’s mind, more specifically on his relationship with Trunks. R


Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or the lyrics for the song _Drive you home _by Garbage.

Warning: sappiness ahead. Probably not the best way to characterize Vegeta, but hey, the lyrics seemed fitting.

_It's funny how_

_Even now_

_You still support me after all the things that I've done_

_You're so good to me_

_Waiting patiently_

_And isn't it sad that you still have to ask if I care?_

_I never said I was perfect_

_But I can take you away_

I am a failure. A heartless bastard. I deserve to be forsaken by all living creatures.

I am a monster. A psychopath. A mass-murderer. I deserve to be hunted down, shunned

I don't have any excuses. I keep failing. I don't change. I hurt people. Even when I don't do a thing. I have a gift. A poisonous gift that I can't escape.

Yet…yet I am not alone. There is one person, one person I hurt time and again. Someone I burned so badly, I thought I had charred his wings. I thought I had crushed his heart. He is still by my side. I broke him. He stood back up. I shut him out. He waited for me. I fought his mother. He supported me. I don't deserve him. I am unreliable. I got him killed in another life. I died for him too. I gave just enough to keep him hanging onto me, such a fool I am. 

He is not like me. He is good. I am afraid every time I am near him. I try to keep him out. I don't want to taint him. He doesn't understand. He hurts. He wants me to be a part of his life. He has treasures of patience. His mother had them too. I never let her in. I protected her. I try to protect him too. He won't let me. He doesn't understand. He hurts, again and again. Every time I fail him, every time I shatter the image he has of who I ought to be, he hurts. I would cry for him if I knew how. He is so insecure. It is my fault. The child doesn't know I care for him. It's so sad. I don't know what to do. If I try to be the father he wants, I know I'll fail even worse than before. But I just can't leave. I care too much. I am stuck here and he hurts. 

I hurt too, but that's normal. I deserve it. I deserve much worse for all the things I've done. I do not dare be happy with my son. I am afraid. Mortally afraid that they'll take him away from me if they find out just how much I care. It happened before. I learned my lesson. I don't deserve to be happy. But doesn't he? I cannot forsake him, my child so sweet and vulnerable. So I stay and I try, with his help. I try to make him happy. I know I'm not perfect, far, far from it, but I can take him away from his sorrow. He has not been himself since his mother died, but when he's with me, it all goes away for a while and he smiles. 

_Walk on shells tonight_

_Can't do right tonight_

_And you can't say a word_

_Cause I leap down your throat_

_So uptight am I_

I never said I was perfect 

_But I can drive you home_

Sometimes I am not myself. Sometimes I don't know who I am. I don't know what I am. I don't know where or when I am. I feel lost. I am still a child. Somewhere deep down I never stopped being a child. A frightened child frozen for all eternity. A cornered animal ready to lash out. I am the depository of a lost culture. I am the rules. I don't know who I am. I am a patchwork and I feel lost. Sometimes the nightmares come so vividly that I loose myself in them. 

And I flee. I run and run trying to escape. It is all inside me. I cannot escape from myself. I drop to my knees, exhausted. The night is quiet around me. I try to breathe but it's hard. All my muscles are contracted painfully. I am so high-strung I feel I might snap in two if I tried to bend over. I try to focus. I have to return to reality. What reality am I in? I'm not sure. Where is the line between dream and reality? I can't seem to find it anymore. Everything is blurred. I feel vulnerable. What was I trying to escape? I remember. Freeza. But here I am. This looks like Earth. If this is Earth, then Freeza is dead. But if Freeza is dead, why am I still running? 

My heart stops. I feel power. Power coming my way. Incredible power. I look around wildly. I am out in the open. There is nowhere to hide. I have to face the threat. I have to fight off the face that haunts my nights. I power up and face the being that tracked me down. He lands. Abhorred monster. He reaches out to me. I strike. He howls. This was not expected. He calls out to me. "Papa!" 

I freeze. My blood stops running. I stare. Then I see. This is not the face of my nightmares. Well, in a way it is. My son is bleeding. I hurt him again. I see tears well in his eyes. When will he learn?! Stupid child! I growl. He should not have followed me. I am a lunatic. I am a mass murderer. He should learn self-preservation. 

"Papa, what's wrong?" 

I will teach him. The child must learn or he won't survive. 

"How many times did I tell you to stay the hell away from me?!" 

The child doesn't understand. He tries so hard and I rebuke him. Adrenaline still courses through my veins. I am terrified. I could have killed him. I can't let him see my fear. I hang onto my anger. I will not hear his explanations. I will teach him his lesson once and for all. I lash out. He doesn't fight back. I roar. He will learn. He is bleeding, crying. 

He is not like me. I cannot cry. Maybe he cannot learn. I stop. Maybe he shouldn't have to learn. Maybe I don't want him to learn the truths of life I was taught under the tender care of Freeza. 

I am not perfect. 

But I am not Freeza. 

He collapses from exertion, all bloodied. He looks up to me. He doesn't understand. I gather him in my arms. He hangs onto me like a lifeline. I am not perfect, but I will take him home.

_I got down on myself_

_Working too hard_

Driving myself to death 

_Trying to beat out the faults in my head_

_What a mess I've made_

_Sure we all make mistakes_

_But they see me so large that they think I'm immune_

_To the pain_

I went into parent mode. It's no wonder the child is confused about me. I beat him up and then I pamper him. It's my fault he won't learn that basic lesson of life: never trust anyone but yourself. And especially never trust the prince of Sayians because he is a sneaky bastard. All the people I have met have learned that or died. At least before I ended up on that mud ball called Earth. When I arrived here, things started to change dramatically. People here seem to think that I have changed over time. That is a wrong assumption. I have adapted to my new environment. I have not changed. I don't think I can. I am Vegeta, Prince of the sneaky bastards, now and forever. 

I bring the child up to my room. I feed him the spare senzu bean I always keep here. He doesn't need it all that much, but he doesn't deserve to suffer from my actions again. He is still in shock. I carry him to my bathroom. He needs cleaning up. I disregard his shredded clothes and put him gently in the bathtub. I wash him carefully. I slowly work a lather in his hair. He leans into my touch, relaxed. My child. 

I rinse the soap away. I take him out of the tub and dry him with my ki. He sighs happily. He is completely drained, yet he looks peaceful. My child doesn't understand why I beat him up earlier, but he is content to know that all is well again. My child doesn't hate me. I put him in my bed and draw the covers over him. In a matter of seconds he is asleep. 

I watch at him for a while. He looks peaceful in his slumber. He doesn't hate me. I stare and I feel the anger rise and rise inside me. It seems as though I might choke on it. It radiates from me and my son whimpers in his sleep. It is time to face the music. My child doesn't hate me, but I know better. 

I hate myself. 

I won't be sleeping any more tonight. I have to beat this anger, this madness out of me. I go to the gravity room. I punch in the highest setting that I can stand. I don't want to kill myself. That would be the easy way out. I don't deserve it. 

I twist and turn, punching the air like a mad man. I think that anyone who has seen me train should not question my sanity. It is quite clear that my reason has forsaken me a long time ago. I fight against my old demons, trying to exorcize them. My blows increase in speed. I know I'm pushing my body too hard. It doesn't matter. I must expiate my sins. Pain is not a problem. It is an old companion. My body starts to protest. I keep going. Time has ceased to be relevant. I am getting to that place again. That place where nothing exists but me. It is like the deepest trance. 

I step out of time and I finally can face my ultimate enemy. He smirks. I frown. He taunts. I growl. I will beat some sense into him if it kills me. I won't go on like this, it has to change. I want to be in control. I will defeat my enemy. For my son. For myself. We circle each other and he sneers. He wears my face. 

I am fighting Vegeta, Prince of all Sayians. 

My enemy. 

My only enemy. 

Myself. 

I watch my double's face intently as we fight. My own traits distorted by hatred. My own face but doesn't it look like that of Freeza? That arrogant sneer, is it really my own? It looks so much like the one I cursed in every language I knew of, the sneer I tried to forget as I laid alone in the dark, battered and bruised in that accursed space ship that was my only home. 

I once said to Kakarrot that Freeza had made me in his image. I don't know if it is true. I try and try to remember what my life was before Freeza but I come up blank. I remember only my father. Vegeta, King of all Sayians. The man who sold me to a monster. The man who doomed his planet and his people with a single trade agreement. There is something of that man in me. I look into my eyes and they're so much like his as I last remember him. Defeated but unyielding. There was so much ice in that stare. So much sorrow too. 

I overlooked the sorrow for so long. 

But I know better now. I have a child. I know it wasn't easy for my father to let me go. He detached himself from his feelings or he wouldn't have been able to do it. At least I think it is what happened. Who knows. I am not an expert on Saiyan nature. I haven't had many subjects of study, except for myself and I don't like to analyse my own behaviour. I usually don't like what I find. 

The high gravity is making it hard to breathe. My double doesn't seem to mind. He is unrelenting. No matter how hard I strike, he comes right back up. What drive. My drive. My face. Interlaced with Freeza's again.

Freeza's Saiyan pet. That was my name for so long. He taught me so well the facts of life, my master. Never trust anyone but yourself. The strongest lives. The weak grovel or die. Strike before you're beaten. Feelings are useless. Cruelty equals safety. I have lived by those rules. That and the teachings my father pounded into me right out of the crib. Pride and honour above all else. I cannot forsake my pride any more than I could stop breathing. Come to think of it, I could probably will myself to stop breathing. But never have I been able to let go of my pride. Does it mean I am the result of something that was not intrinsically my self? I will never know. 

I watch my cruel mouth. It is twisted in loathing. Was I moulded to be a Freeza look-alike? A monument to the glory of my master? I will not go down that road. It would be too easy. I cannot shift the blame of who I am onto Freeza. Whatever he did to change me, I let him do. I could have fought. I did fight. That I remember. I fought him every step of the way. But with the wrong weapons. To get my revenge I became my tormentor. I never even realized it. 

Anger courses anew in my veins. Sweat is flowing down my body. I must be getting dehydrated by now. It doesn't matter. My double is still here, taunting me. I want to choke the life out of him. Little bastard who let himself become a monster. I kick and kick. In my mind's eye I grab him by the throat and squeeze. I smirk. 

But suddenly I am holding a child by the throat, his little feet dangling in the air. He looks up to me, defiant. He is scared but he won't say it. This child is me. I am strangling that part of me that never grew up. The part of me that forever cries silently in fear and confusion. I try to let go. 

The child morphs into something else. It is me again. My anger returns with a vengeance. I punch my own face. I look into his eyes and suddenly I freeze. Those are not Freeza's eyes. They are not King Vegeta's eyes. They look like Kakarrot's. Understanding, full of compassion. Full of pity. I see my reflection in those dark eyes. A foaming puppet dancing forgotten steps on strings long abandoned by their masters. Pathetic. I am alone. I am not free. I am on my own. I am not in control. I scream. My power radiates madly around me. Everything explodes.

I lie quietly in the rubble. I destroyed the gravity room again. If Bulma was still alive, I would never hear the end of it. I lost control again and made an awful mess. My body is truly the worse for wear. I don't think my son heard the explosion. His ki is still relaxed, he hasn't awakened. I hang on. I don't want my son to find my dead body first thing in the morning. 

I grit my teeth. The pain is unbearable. I wish I could howl it to the heavens but that would be undignified. A sign of weakness. People think I am totally insensitive. That I cannot be hurt. But I am not immune to the pain. I have never been. I just learnt I'd better not show it if I didn't want someone to take advantage of it. I know here I could let myself go. None of the people I am acquainted with on Earth would try to use this edge against me. But I just can't relax. They think I don't care about the consequences of the mistakes I make. I do care. I just can't let them know.

_I'm praying for a miracle_

_But I won't hold my breath_

I never said I was perfect 

_But can you drive me home?_

I try and try to change. I try to look into myself and see what's wrong so I can beat it out. I have not been successful so far. I am lying in a pile of rubble but the darkness inside of me is still here. I don't know how to make it go away. I remember the look in my double's eyes before I lost control. So much compassion. So much sadness. I wish I could be him but the anger won't subside. 

I have seen several parts of me tonight. I think I'm meant to understand that I cannot be any of them. I must accept them all instead of driving them away. I am afraid to embrace them. My anger, my insecurities, my feelings. It feels safer to keep them at arm's length. But on some level I understand that I cannot be in control if I don't wholly accept who I am. I will try. 

I want to see if I can tame the foaming monster inside, if I can bring a smile on the sneering bastard's face, if I can soothe the crying child and finally bring him to sleep. I can only pray that I succeed. For my sake, for my son's. I won't hold my breath. My prayers are not usually heard or taken into consideration. But I'll do my best. 

I can hear my son now. His scream is cutting through the pile of debris that covers me. He is digging through, frantic. So much concern for his father. So much concern for me. I feel tears stinging my eyes. Daylight seeps through my makeshift grave. 

Suddenly my breath is taken away by the sight brought before my eyes. My child is standing above me. Sunrays magnify his beauty. He looks like an angel, his tears glistening, tiny jewels gently sliding down his cheeks. I realize then that I don't have to be afraid. I cannot taint him. My darkness cannot swallow his light. I try to smile and he drops to his knees. 

I know I am not perfect. I might fail him again. But I know that he needs me, even if I am a monster, even if I am a mass murderer. I am his father. If there is any road that I can find out of my personal darkness, I know it leads to him. He is my chance at redemption, my child. 

He looks at me, his big blue eyes swimming in sorrow. I try to wipe his tears away, but I am too weak to reach his face. He takes my hand in his. I smile again and he is puzzled. I have to speak. 

"I am sorry, son. I am sorry for all those years I wasn't really there. I'll try to make it better." 

He is truly astonished now, but he seems happy too. Hopeful. I can only pray that I won't betray his trust again. My son is almost a man. Like me my son is also still a child. I will make sure that he won't have to face a crying child in his dreams years from now. I will help soothe his frightened child. Maybe we can grow up together. My son needs me and it seems like I need him too. 

"Won't you take me home, Trunks? Home with you?" 

He is smiling now. He takes my broken body in his strong arms and so we begin our journey towards healing, together.

The end.

You may now seek the closest bathroom/sink/bucket and empty your aching stomach.

Seriously, tell me what you think of it. I think I might have overdone it a bit  ^^!


End file.
